January 12, 2002

Platonic making out can work without one or the other person ending up being emotionally attatched (in a more-than-friend sense). The one time I've had this work out was with someone I was interested in about a year before the event. However, via a mutual friend, it had been made very clear that things were not to be. I was mostly over her, but best I can figure this out, we were both simply curious, but aware that things weren't going to happen. But, in a random drunken moment we snogged (after something resembling a chat-up line from me that wasn't even intended as one).

Net result of all this (well, best I can tell atm, this only happened last night), is that things are now purged from both of our systems. I ended up snogging one of my housemates as well. Very weird night. Certainly my best birthday ever. Given those two snogs represent 20% of everyone I've ever kissed ever (by my current age of 21), this was an exceptionally weird night.

How does someone who'd only kissed 8 people at the time of writing write a node like "Connections in a group from kisses", is what I'd like to know.... life is weird

Hell is not a friendly place.

It is not fire and brimstone, nor is it full of the dearly departed. After the past 24 hours, I am convinced that Hell must be a call center. A call center manned by lobotomized quadriplegics with attention deficit disorder. With nothing but E-Machines, all running Windows ME. And every single customer has a mission critical problem requiring hand-holding to reconfigure their entire ME/2k network with Novell. And call queues of hundreds, who've been on hold for the last decade. And the owner of the company is pacing around like a rabid bull who can see red on the other side of the fence.

That's what Hell must really be like.

That's my job.

Sometimes I wish I was blind.

It attacks me every day. A clique of African-American girls, when faced with detention for smoking in the bathroom or swaring at the teacher, claim racial inequity. The red chevy truck, decorated with a skull and crossbones and layers of rust, proudly flapping an oversized confederate flag in the wind. Comments such as "you did this to us, we should throw all you fucking japs back home" after September 11, 2001, directed towards my friend Fung (born in Hong Kong, nonetheless).

People seem to get stupider every day.

I'm tired of it, I'm tired of the hate. I'm tired of all the Strom Thurmonds, I'm tired of my grandparents claiming all those from the middle east should be deported. When I tell my next door neighbor about India and Pakistan, she says "they can just blow all their brains out and save us the trouble."

Maybe it wouldn't solve all of the world's problems, but it seems that sight is something I can do without.

I am sitting here at one of the lame ass internet cafe's in Dublin on a Saturday night working a double shift. It fucking sucks. Well not really. I suppose, there are worse things in life.

For example, I could be a twelve year old child working in some run-down sweatshop in Indonesia. I could be a junkie living on the street, begging for money, desiring nothing but my next fix.

Sometimes I wonder how the world managed to turn out like this because it doesn't make sense to me most of the time. Millions of individuals running around, day in and day out, over and over again, repeating the same routines, endlessly. The cycle continues until one day, you realize that the majority of your life has been spent chasing someone else's dream, the victim of illusions, and pathetic and unoriginal desires.

I think Albert Camus touched on this idea at one point, as many other philosophers and the like have. Of course none of what I have just said is anything new. Nothing anyone really says is exactly new if you think about it, unless they are talking about a specific experience, but even then, most likely the sensation has been felt by someone at some other point in the long-ass history of human existence. I guess my point is that I feel most people miss out on authentic experiences. The presently predominant culture of the West that has been completely destroying individual societies and cultures for the past 400 years or so, if not longer, has become too powerful in my eyes. Capitalism is a vile, disgusting, virus that has contaminated almost the entire wold with its poisonous venom. People have become seriously fucked up because of the effects it has had on culture.

But this is turning into more than I wanted it to be. Today I woke up and I didn't want to leave my house, hell I didn't want to leave my room, my bed! This thought scared me. It is not very often that I feel overwhelmed and overpowered by the system which I feel currently exists in terms of how our society works. Yes, the society I live in is not the same as everyone's, and not everyone looks at the world in the same way, but i just think it should be noted that to a good majority of people, the system is fucked. People's lives bought and sold at the Gap, at Walmart, hell even at Tesco here in Ireland. I struggle with this shit everyday, and no I am not looking for sympathy, I just wish that more people were aware and actually cared about what goes on in the world.

i fully intend to do a whole lot of bitching and griping. you have been warned.

so no shit, there i was, having a wonderful dream about a beautiful compatriot of mine, when the goddamn phone rings. it's the district attorney's office. goddamn it. what did i do...? not me, luckily. i have been called as the key witness in the state's domestic violence case against my ex-boyf. seriously, tho, i want no part of this.

over the next several days, i learn that the trial is scheduled for my first day of class, and i have six days in which to meet with the defense attorney for discovery...bullshit, man. i am so not going to take this lying down. so i bitched, and i griped, and it turned out that the defense attorney was in phoenix, anyway, and couldn't see me. so it got continued, and i can go to class. :) see, happy ending.

next on my list of things to gripe about is the sudden abundance of smart, talented, beautiful boys who love to be around me, but whose circumstances prevent me from having even the faintest chance...i'd be lying if i said i hadn't tried. finally, during one particularly odd conversation, i surrendered to fate, and i think i'm in a band now...or something...excuse me while i look vague and musically inclined for a moment...

*shrug* i give up. i have accepted that what i want and what i get are two entirely separate things, connected only by superficial resemblance. and i reiterate the old maxim: never boink anyone you're in a band with. *pound head on desk*

i got convinced to come back to the friday larp as a storyteller (just like i used to be, before i quit because i hated all my players...), and just when i think i have a great plot going, one key player does not make an appearance. ...!!!... luckily, this did not result in mass destruction, due to some quick plot-hacking on my part. *grunt* remind me why i find this entertaining...

ah, yes, and in a grand act of stupidity, i broke my foot tuesday nite. never practice your matrix-style badassery on a slick concrete floor.

i'll quit my bitching now, and return you to your regularly scheduled programming. smooches to slide and starrynight, just for existing.

I can't put my finger on it, but something is wrong. Something doesn't feel right. And I know it is something about me.

I think I might just be tired and stressed out and sick of thinking. Actually, I know all that. I am done being tired. I never sleep right anyways. If I just had a job I wouldn't be stressed out. If I could just get over myself I wouldn't be stressed out. But, I can't get over myself. I compare myself to every person I see.

And maybe it would make alot more sense if I was comparing myself to people and doing something about it. But, I don't. I am not anorexic. I just hate myself. And its dumb, I am all to well aware. But because its dumb doesn't mean I'll stop.

I'm so sick of being dumb. I want to be smart and funny and fun. I want to be his dream girl. But all I do is embarass myself in front of him more and more. I hate that. I really really hate that. He is the only person I need to impress, and I can't even do that.

I haven't written here in so long. Well, a couple weeks anyways. It feels different than it did before.

When life has got me cornered and nothing seems to make sense anymore I write. I write because if I don't I can't sleep. Thoughts rush into my mind like waves crashing against the sand. My heart starts racing, my hands begin to shake, and I can't sleep.

That's what really drives me nuts about the whole thing.

I enjoy sleep. It soothes the soul, it allows the body to genuinely rest. It allows one to forget, just for a moment that there is a world out there that consists of pure bullshit. The magazine covers, the pills, the blackouts, the lies, the pressure to succeed, the stereotypical judgements, all of it just seems to dissapesar for a while.

This is when our dreamland emerges out of the cold darkness. This is when the chaos we call life stops churning for awhile and we can let it all go.

A lot of people ask me sometimes why I perceive life in this way. I supppose the root of the cause is embedded in my childhood, but I am not here to talk about that. I consider myself to be unselfish, therefore, to focus these oberservations merely on my experiences would be senseless.

I feel that people are lost, myself included. Evolution has allowed for an intrusion on our souls and most don't realize just how deep the disturbance has become. If people were to just step back and examine their lives while simultaneously realizing just how far we truly are from being free individuals than the world might be a better place.

But back to the insomnia thing. This really does disturb me the most. It infuriates me that just because I feel guilty about what I thinkI want out of life, and about the people that are suffering,and becuase the world is so fucked up that I miss out on dreaming. So, perhaps I really am somewhat selfish. Maybe I am a little angry that I give a fuck about the shit that goes on in the world. Maybe I do get annoyed at the fact that I cannot seem to supress the urge to puke everytime I turn on the television and witness how completely fucked everything is.

(This excludes The Simpsons, South Park, Jackass, and The Sopranos.)

Although I don't have a T.V. so it is on rare occasion that I get to indulge in these litte reality escape routes.

So I am angry, and I am frustrated, and I am tired. Even though I know that I really shouldn't be and that I wouldn't be if I could just take my own advice. Living in the now wouldn't be so bad if I didn't care I suppose. But I'd rather be in my own little version of hell, than be ignorant.